


All Along the Watchtower

by MeganWrites



Series: Alternate Universe [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, End of the World, Gallavich - AU, M/M, but not super angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganWrites/pseuds/MeganWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is ending, but when Ian and Mickey meet things don't seem quite so bad. </p><p>(AU based on Seeking a Friend for the End of the World)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And This Is Not Our Fate

**Author's Note:**

> So if you've seen the movie it will be kind of keeping with that bittersweet tone to it. I originally started writing this as a one-shot but then I was only half way done and it was 6000-ish words so I decided to make it a three-shot.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

There is an asteroid on a collision course with the earth.

The scientist from NASA are predicting they have at least five years before it becomes a major concern. In fact, they aren't even sure if it will actually hit Earth or just pass by barely causing any problems. An announcement is made to the public about it, stressing that they aren't sure what will happen, the best scientist in the world are working on it, and not to worry.

Apart from a few hundred, the people of world ignore any warnings and continue on with their lives. A few shuttle missions are planned to stray the course of the asteroid and track data on it's movements.

No one thinks too much more of it.

 

-

 

Mickey runs away from Chicago when he is fourteen.

His father is an angry drunk and his mother is a strung out drug addict. Mickey hates them both more than anyone else in the world and he knows that if they ever found out more about him, both of the intolerant assholes would hate him too - or at least hate him more than they already did.

One night, once everyone is deep in sleep, he packs a bag, grabs the keys to the family's old beat up car and slips out the back door. He drives until he reaches New York City and trades the car in at a dealership for an equally beat up truck. It's rough for awhile, as it is for any kid with nothing trying to make it the city, but Mickey is lucky. He doesn't look older than he is, but he's always had a way about him that makes people seem to think he is older and it doesn't take long before he gets a job working as a bouncer at a couple clubs. He finds a shitty little apartment in Brooklyn, spends the rest of the money he brought with him on the down payment. It's not much but Mickey never did need very much before.

He gets a text from Mandy nearly a year later, the loud irritating bing reminds him that he still needs to change his cellphone number.

_Mom's dead. Cops found her under the El._

He doesn't answer, only changes his number the next day and mails Mandy enough money to get out of the house, maybe get her own apartment away from that shit hole.

He never looks back after that.

 

-

 

Ian doesn't get in to West Point but he does move to New York City, or as close as he can afford.

If he is being honest with himself, Ian never really believed that he would get into the college anyways. West Point was always a dream of his but he learned a long time ago that dreams didn't come true for people like him. That doesn't stop him for cursing his parents, the shitty Southside education he received, and the fact that one bad English essay overshadows his perfect JROTC record.

He keeps his pity party going for awhile, drinking away his sorrows and broken dreams for weeks. Then one night, smoking weed with Lip in the boys bedroom, he finally finds clarity. All Ian had ever wanted was structure and normality, something the Southside and the chaos of his upbringing had never given him, and he knows he needs to get out.

Two months later he turns eighteen, a day after that he's packing his bags and hugging each member of his family goodbye. He always liked the idea of New York metropolitan area, so that's where he goes.

It's harder than he thought it would be, but Ian's a Gallagher - he knows how to survive and thrive through a struggle.

 

-

 

Mickey thinks everyone in his apartment building is a fucking idiot.

He's getting his mail and trying to ignore a couple that can never seem to make it to their apartment before they start arguing. Mickey's not even sure if they live in the building, he's only ever seen them on the first floor throwing a fit; bickering back and forth about bills and laundry. They're miserable people, but Mickey finds some sort of twisted hilarity out of how dumb all their little spats are.

He chuckles to himself as he overhears the man saying; "It's my laundry Claire! I can wash it all together if I want to! I don't give a damn about whites, I give a damn about my time!"

Who the fuck really thinks this sort of thing is worth a full out screaming match?

"I do! I give a damn about the whites, Craig!" The woman cries back, Mickey thinks he can hear her starting to tear up. He wonders if they realize how their conversation would come off to anyone who had just walked in. Mickey overhears a quiet laugh from beside him and looks up to see a tall red haired man getting his mail.

Mickey can't help but gaze at him for a second - the redhead is built like a fucking Adonis.

The man looks over and grins at Mickey, his smile is so wide Mickey thinks his face might split and Mickey swears to god that his green eyes are sparkling. He doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful in real life and it's starting to throw him off. Mickey clears his throat and turns away.

"They're fucking ridiculous." Mickey mutters to the man, he looks up to see the man laughing quietly again and involuntarily smiles in return.

Mickey turns and rushes up the stairs before the redhead can say anything, wondering when the hell he moved in and how the fuck Mickey missed it.

 

-

 

Ian takes a total of two and a half weeks before he recognizes Mickey Milkovich.

Ian is moving in some of his stuff when he first sees the dark haired man flipping off an aggressive biker - a fucking pedal biker - outside of the apartment building. Ian is sure that he knows him from somewhere, though it really confuses him how he had managed to forget someone that hot. After that Ian starts to take a greater interest in the mystery man, using whatever opportunity he can to figure who he is.

Ian sees him walking up the stairs sometimes, or leaving the building, but each time Ian fails to place where exactly he knows the man from. It isn't until Ian runs into him getting mail while snickering at a bickering couple that Ian notices the signature 'FUCK U-UP' Milkovich tattoo's on his knuckles and remembers the youngest Milkovich boy that had run away.

It's no surprise Ian thinks Mickey is ridiculously hot, he did have the biggest crush on Mickey back in little league - not that he would have ever been brave enough to admit that to anyone at the time.

Ian catches Mickey checking him that day and grins. Over the next few weeks Ian begins to purposefully pass by Mickey more often just to see him biting his lips and running his eyes over Ian appreciatively.

Ian thinks that moving to New York and living two levels down from Mickey must have been his destiny.

 

-

 

Mickey's sitting on his couch trying to pretend he doesn't care.

It's a Tuesday at 6:43am, the television is on and Mickey's foot is tapping rapidly as he smokes a joint and clutches a half-full, warm beer. He tells himself he doesn't care either way and convinces himself that he's only paying attention to see if he actually has to drag himself to work or not.

The television lights up and the news show's title flashes across the screen, it changes to a news anchor looking solemn and more nervous than Mickey finds comfortable. After a long moment of silence the anchor begins to speak; "When the asteroid was discovered to be on a collision course with our beloved planet five years ago none of us thought much of it, today our final hope, one final space shuttle mission, was sent to destroy this asteroid. I am sadden to inform you, America, that this mission has failed. There is an estimated four weeks until impact, take this time to spend with your loved ones and say goodbye. It has truly been an honor reading you the ne-"

Mickey turns off the television, wanting to avoid seeing the sobbing mess the news anchor was quickly turning into. He scowls and finishes his beer, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest and pretends he's just glad he can stay home and get high.

Besides, half of what they say on television is garbage.

 

-

 

Ian definitely, kind of, hates everyone.

He guesses he's probably just jealous because he didn't have the foresight to go home earlier, when there were still trains and buses. Fiona had warned him early on that he should try to catch a train or something to get back to Chicago but he had waved her off, telling her everything would be fine and not to be nervous - besides he didn't have the money.

When the news comes he runs the entire day, punches a hole in his wall, and smokes a full pack of cigarettes before drinking a bottle of cheap whiskey to himself. In the morning he calls Fiona and apologizes, tries to convince her that he can walk or bike there, maybe he can even manage to steal a car. Fiona calls him an idiot and passes the phone to Lip, his older brother eloquently explains that shit is going to hit the fan.

"Just don't be stupid," Lip tells Ian after explaining how many mobs had already broken out in Chicago, "seeing us isn't worth dying early - we'll call you everyday Ian, it won't be the same but at least we can all be safe."

Ian concedes to their pleas and stays put, but that doesn't stop him from sitting on the front steps of his shitty apartment building, lighting his way through another pack of smokes and hating every single person wandering out with their bags packed. As he curses each person leaving he spots Mickey scowling and holding a large brown paper bag, walking back to the doors of the building like maybe he isn't leaving either.

Ian watches him and sees him glancing down to Ian, his scowl falters a bit and Ian waves. Mickey stares at him, once again scanning him and looking so completely delicious Ian wants to slam him into the wall and fuck him raw. Of course, Mickey just nods and walks past him into the building.

Ian decides he doesn't hate Mickey.

 

-

 

Mickey is good at living in a post-apocalyptic world.

Though, it's not really post-apocalyptic he guesses, it's kind of pre-apocalyptic or maybe just chaotic, but Mickey is good at living through chaos too. He feels like he's been preparing his whole life for the mostly abandoned and sometimes riot filled streets. He likes that he can just wander into any store and take what he needs, filling up brown paper bags with food and alcohol. He still has some of the coke he used to sell except now he mostly trades it for massive quantities of weed instead of money.

He goes out drinking at a nearby bar often trading a few joints for a bottle of whiskey and always seems to get a quick fuck in the alley afterwards. It doesn't surprise him that the only functioning businesses are based on drugs and alcohol.

He has a few extra locks on his door and window just in case any of the riots happen to reach the third floor, and even manages to get a storage space to lock up his truck. Mickey is thriving and feeling good, everything is fucking great - he just has to  pretend the world isn't ending in a few weeks. Mickey doesn't think too much about the asteroid, tries not to think about Mandy and his brothers, focuses on his little victories and keeps to himself.

He's in control of his own little world - everything except the tall, gorgeous redhead with green eyes that seems to be the only other person in his building not to run off. Mickey sees him too often, smoking and drinking on the steps of the building, smiling to widely at Mickey with green eyes that always seem to sparkle too damn much.

The man never says anything, just grins and waves, which Mickey has never been so thankful for. He's not sure what he would do if the redhead stopped him and asked if he wanted a smoke. He's not sure he would be able to just scowl and walk past, even knowing that would ruin the perfect solitary life he's built out of this chaos.

So they continue their wordless encounters and Mickey never intends to change it.

 

-

 

Ian thinks the riots are human nature.

If there's one thing the Southside taught Ian over the years it's that people are selfish and angry, always looking to get themselves further ahead and when they can't do that they take it out on whoever or whatever is around. He figures most of the angry mobs and riots are probably people like himself; pissed off they can't see their families or maybe just pissed off they're going to die.

They can't get farther ahead, so they're taking everyone else down with them. Misery loves company and all that shit.

Considering his opinions on human nature, it doesn't surprise him when the screaming and violence starts to get worse, or when it forces him to move his usual smoking and drinking spot to the fire escape just outside his window. He watches the mob from the street begin pouring into the alley and sighs loudly. He smokes the last of his cigarette and resigns himself to going back inside his apartment. He's startled when he hears footsteps on the fire escape and prepares himself for a fight.

Ian throws a fist before even seeing the persons face, only to feel a solid fist against his own face and knocking him to the ground a moment later.

"Aye Firecrotch, watch where your fuckin' throwing that."

"Fuck," Ian moans and looks up to see Mickey standing over him. He's dropped the brown paper bag he usually carries and is holding his hands up in fists. Ian wants to kick himself, because of course his first real meeting with Mickey would be because he punched him in the face. "Sorry," Ian mutters and stands. He raises one of his hands and uses the other to stop the blood running from his nose. "Thought you were from the riot, it's getting bad down there."

Mickey snorts and lowers his fists, "it's a riot dumbass, when are they ever good?"

Ian wonders if he could have possibly kicked off meeting Mickey worse. A gun goes off, loud and ringing through the air, the bullet narrowly missing both men and hitting the brick wall. Mickey growls and looks up at Ian, seeming to contemplate something quickly before grabbing Ian's arm dragging him up the fire escape. Mickey pauses two floors up and unlocks the window there, he slips in and Ian follows after without a second thought.

It takes a moment for Ian to absorb the fact that Mickey has just brought him back to his apartment. Ian glances around, it looks a lot like his own apartment; mostly bare, some DVD's and CD's scattered throughout a bookshelf with papers and only a few actual books. The television is small and the couch seems a little worn but it looks comfortable enough. Ian walks over to the couch and sits down, looking up to see Mickey's eyes tracking his every move.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mickey questions, clearly meaning his voice to come across harsher than it does.

Ian shrugs, "I've still got a bottle of whiskey if you want to get drunk, got some decent weed too." He holds up the mostly full bottle and a baggy full of joints he had rolled earlier. He watches as Mickey bites his lip and scans his eyes over Ian, Ian hopes this means Mickey is seconds away from saying yes. "I'm Ian," he introduces himself and holds out a hand.

Mickey rolls his eyes and pushes Ian's hand away, "Mickey. And if you're gonna stay you've got to clean yourself up." He points at Ian's face where Ian feels the blood from his nose drying, "you're a fuckin' mess, man."

Ian laughs, as Mickey sits down beside him.

 

-

 

Mickey quickly finds out that Ian is a bit of a lightweight.

He figured that after seeing Ian drinking a bottle by himself nearly everyday that he would at least have some type of stamina but it seems that after splitting half a bottle and two joints Ian is fucked right up. Mickey laughs while watching Ian's bloodshot and watery eyes, listening to his words becoming increasingly slurred and messy. Ian's sprawled out on the couch, limbs dangling off every edge and forcing Mickey to sit on the floor beside him. Mickey might not be at Ian's level of drunk but he's feeling pretty good, so when Ian rambles on he just sits there and listens, laughing at the stupid shit that keeps tumbling out of his mouth.

"Yooou," Ian says slowly, "I know you."

Mickey rolls his eyes, "yeah, Genius, we just met two hours ago - I didn't forget it."

Ian shakes his head and giggles - actually fucking giggles, which Mickey thinks is hilarious for a grown man to do. "Nope, we went to school together."

Mickey raises his eyebrows and smirks, he can't imagine that he would have ever forgotten someone built as beautifully as Ian. He snorts and shakes his head, "not unless you're from fuckin' Canaryville, Chicago."

Ian grins widely and Mickey is reminded of how bright and gorgeous his stupid smile is.

"Born and raised."

Ian rolls and sits up before sliding down onto the floor to sit next to Mickey. Mickey shifts a little, he normally doesn't let people this close unless they're fucking, but Ian's so close he can feel the heat radiating from him. "You're a Milkovich," Ian says lifting his own hand and touching his knuckles. Mickey looks down at his inked fingers and back to Ian, he starts to feel the dread settling in before Ian starts waving his hands quickly, clearly aware of the shifting mood. Ian points at himself, "Gallagher, Frank's kid."

Suddenly Mickey is laughing, because he actually does remember Ian.

He remembers the little redheaded boy in little league, quiet and always standing near the back. He was too damn skinny and his limbs were longer than seemed right for his height. Mostly he remembers seeing Ian's same big grin when Mickey was looking around the field cockily after peeing on first base as an act of defiance against their coach's blatant favoritism.

"Yeah, from little league," Mickey finally says, still smiling from laughing. "No shit, figures I'd run into a Gallagher eventually, too many of you fuckers."

Ian laughs and nods, but his grin is smaller and Mickey tries not to notice when it falters slightly or the sadness in the Ian's eyes at the mention of his family. Mickey looks away quickly, hating that he actually fucking noticed that and tries to resist the dumb urge to comfort Ian. He swallows and clenches his hands, biting his lip and trying to remember how much he likes being alone - his own perfect solitary world, no stupid redhead's from Canaryville allowed.

Ian yawns and looks over at Mickey, he smiles lazily, clearly too out of it to realize what he's saying anymore. "You were stupid cute in that uniform."

Mickey should have knocked Ian out for saying something like that, he would have done it to anyone else, but instead he just laughs. He wonders if the impending end of the world is starting to make him soft.

"No wonder you sucked, too busy staring at my ass." Mickey says, Ian just grins and nods.

 

-

 

Ian knocks on Mickey's window for the fourth night in a row.

He shuffles a little as he waits for some sort of response from inside. It can take Mickey awhile sometimes but Ian doesn't have anywhere else to be, so he just leans against the wall and waits. It's one of the rare times that the streets are empty and silent. He finds it strange and disconcerting when everything's quiet - he prefers the riots.

"Don't you ever get cold sitting on your ass out here?" Mickey is on the level below Ian, walking up the rickety steps of the fire escape and rolling his eyes as Ian grins at him.

"It's summer," Ian answers and stands as Mickey reaches the last step. "No one would get cold out here."

Mickey shoves the large brown paper bag he's carrying into Ian's arms and unlocks his window. He slides inside and grabs the bag back from Ian. Ian stays silent and shuffles his feet outside for a couple of seconds before he hears Mickey yelling, "either close the window or get the fuck in here, Gallagher."

Ian grins and slips in through the window. Sometimes he wonders how Mickey feels about him. It seems like Mickey likes spending time with him because he's never thrown Ian out, but Ian always feels like Mickey is trying to keep himself distant. Ian thinks that maybe he's pushing Mickey too far, but he can't help it, Mickey is so intoxicating that Ian doesn't think he could stop if he wanted to.

"Got some beer," Ian calls out to Mickey, who is emptying food into his fridge.

"You expect me to go back to beer after bringing me whiskey the past three nights? You're getting cheap."

Ian laughs and walks over to sit on the couch, placing two eight packs on the table and pulling himself off a beer, "and you're getting greedy." Mickey grins in response, he doesn't smile very often but when he does Ian has to take a moment to admire it. Ian leans back sipping on his beer and feels a sudden surge of bravery, "you should smile more often."

Mickey raises his eyebrows and bites his lower lip, "fuck off."

"I'm serious," Ian sits up straighter after Mickey's less than vicious response instills more confidence, "you look good when you smile."

Mickey sits down and punches Ian's arm, "shut the fuck up and put a movie in." Ian laughs and rubs his arm as Mickey pulls out a joint, lighting it and taking a drag. "And pass me a beer."

Ian puts on some action movie and sits back on the couch. Mickey passes him the joint and Ian shuffles a little closer to him until their arms are brushing. Ian chances glance at Mickey and sees Mickey looking at him, biting his lower lip as he runs his eyes over Ian's body. Ian almost shudders when Mickey reaches forward and plucks the joint from Ian's fingers. Mickey turns back to the screen and takes a long drag. Ian watches his pink, slightly chapped lips wrapped around the paper and thinks about how perfect it would be to kiss him. Ian looks back at the screen, taking another sip of his beer and smiling.

Mickey doesn't move away, and Ian thinks that probably means something.

 

-

 

Mickey is ridiculously tired.

He hasn't slept well in the past week, tossing and turning and thinking way too damn much for his own good. He guesses that the world ending soon is probably giving plenty of people restless nights. He thinks he could really fall asleep right now though, he smoked a lot of pot and drank ten of the sixteen beers Ian brought over. The only problem is that he is sitting on his couch and Ian is resting against his shoulder completely passed out.

He shouldn't care, he should be more the ready to shove Ian off and tell him to fuck off to his own apartment, but Mickey can't do that. Ian told Mickey that he wasn't sleeping and Mickey has seen the evidence in the dark bags under his eyes growing darker since they started spending time together. Mickey tries to shift under Ian's weight a little, looking around for a pillow or anything that could replace Mickey's shoulder without waking Ian up.

There's nothing but Ian seems to half-wake up anyways.

"I fell asleep," Ian mumbles into Mickey's shoulder, "sorry."

Mickey looks down at Ian, sees Ian's eyes are still closed and frowns, barely resisting the urge to brush his fingers through Ian's hair. "S'okay, you still tired?"

Ian nods slowly and yawns. Mickey runs a thumb over his lower lip and glances to the window. He listens as Ian's breathing steady's once again and hears his soft snores. Mickey looks back at Ian and sighs, he leans his head to the side, resting his cheek on the top of Ian's head, and closes his eyes.

Ian's breathing is like a lullaby and Mickey has his first good sleep since the announcement.

 

-

 

Ian can't think of a better feeling.

He and Mickey are wrapped up together on Mickey's couch, still wearing their clothes from the night before but they always are. Ian's arms are around Mickey's shoulder, one hand between his shoulder blades and the other in his hair. Mickey's arms are wrapped tightly around Ian's waist - even in his sleep Mickey's grip never loosens.

It started the week before, the sleeping cuddled up together. They fell asleep on the couch and woke up resting against each other after a full night of rest. Waking up next to Mickey for the first time had changed everything for Ian and the next night he managed to fall asleep with his head in Mickey's lap. He had woken up with Mickey leaned over with his head on Ian's back. From there it continued on - a silent agreement that they would be falling asleep together every night, if only for the convenience of a full nights rest.

Ian knew it wasn't anything more because in the morning Mickey will roll over, push away from Ian and act like nothing happened between them throughout the night. Ian doesn't mind though, as long as he can have his nights holding Mickey in his arms, he at least gets to have a piece of him.

Ian keeps his eyes closed as he feels Mickey beginning to shift awake, praying that he'll get just a few more seconds before Mickey stumbles away to his bedroom. Mickey nuzzles closer and loosens his hold a little, moving one hand to grip Ian's hip and rub his thumb across the exposed skin there. Ian hums quietly at the small movement and feels Mickey smile against his cheek. "Knew you were awake," Mickey mutters but doesn't move away or stop rubbing at Ian's hipbone.

Ian lets out a small sigh, "yeah." He tightens his grip on on Mickey and breathes in his scent, "don't want to get up, too comfy."

Mickey laughs and before Ian knows what's happening Mickey has rolled over on top of Ian, straddling him and pinning his hands down. Ian's eyes fly open and he's greeted by the sight of Mickey perched on top of him, grinning and biting his lip. He's looking down at Ian appreciatively and Ian's almost certain he can feel a bulge in Mickey's jeans. Ian has to suppress a groan at the thought and breathes in nervously. Mickey smirks when he sees how suddenly nervous Ian is and jumps up from the couch.

"Time to get up, Gallagher," he calls out and wanders into his bedroom.

Ian throws his head back and doesn't hesitate to let out a quiet groan this time.

 

-

 

Mickey knows it's summer but he still feels cold.

There's a light breeze rushing through the air and the fire escape doesn't do much for insulation. Ian's sitting on his left side and Mickey can feel the heat radiating off of him, it makes Mickey want to lean over and bury himself in Ian. Instead he reaches over and takes the beer out of Ian's hand, drinking it and bouncing his legs trying to get some heat.

He has no idea how Ian is sitting around completely unaffected, the kids like a natural fucking furnace and it makes no sense.

"Do you miss your family?" Ian asks quietly, interrupting the comfortable silence Mickey had been enjoying.

Mickey snorts and shakes his head, "fuck no, man."

Ian looks down at his hands and shuffles a little closer to Mickey. Mickey acts like it doesn't effect him but suddenly the heat from Ian is close, and their arms are brushing, and fuck, his heart begins to flutter like he's a goddamn teenager. He drinks more beer before passing the can back to Ian a little more forcefully than usual.

"I thought about going back to Chicago to see mine," Ian's looking at Mickey, his eyes are wide and honest, with the sadness that Mickey has only seen glances of. "I haven't even seen them in over a year, wouldn't even know if they stayed put after all this shit," he smiles sadly and looks down, "though I can't imagine them being anywhere other than home."

_Home._ Because, unlike Mickey, Ian still has a home and it isn't this shitty apartment building in Brooklyn.

Mickey swallows and bites his lip nervously. He hates that Ian decides to tell him about his feelings because Mickey has been avoiding discussing feelings since before he could speak, but he hates that Ian's sad even more. There's a knot in his throat when he tries to speak and Mickey feels the twinging in his heart. Mickey breathes in and shuffles the smallest amount closer to Ian, he wraps an arm around Ian's shoulder and pulls Ian to rest his head against Mickey's chest. Ian quickly moves in against Mickey, he drapes his arm over Mickey's leg and buries his face into Mickey's neck.

Mickey doesn't know what to say so he stays silent for a long time, enjoying the heat from Ian and the comfortable silence falling over them once again. Mickey shivers, runs a hand through Ian's soft hair, and puts his nose against the top of Ian's head breathing in. He nudges Ian and whispers, "C'mon." He releases Ian from his arms and grabs Ian's wrist, "let's go to bed."

Mickey pulls Ian into his room and onto his bed for the first time, they wrap their limbs around the other without a word, just naturally falling together like perfect fitting puzzle pieces. Mickey watches as Ian drifts off to sleep, his lips part slightly and his eyelids flutter. Ian's completely vulnerable, so trusting and so stunning. Mickey's never seen someone like this before Ian, no one has ever wanted to be like this around Mickey.

Mickey finds his desire to be alone shattering with every breath Ian takes.


	2. So Let Us Not Talk Falsely Now

Ian never used to smoke this much.

Lighting up a cigarette had always been something Lip was more likely to do, not that Ian ever turned down a smoke when it was offered to him, but it hadn't been the toxic habit he was beginning to form. Although, Ian figured he was going to die young anyways so there wasn't much use in worrying about his lungs anymore. He takes a long drag from the cigarette perched between his lips and closes his eyes. He just finished a phone call with his family and is laying sprawled out on his shitty couch, trying his hardest to forget the fact that he will never hug any of them again. His chest aches from the pain of that knowledge, he knows it's something he'll never be able to forget. He wishes that he had known that last time he stepped out of the house and said goodbye was the _last time_ \- maybe then he could have hugged tighter, said something nicer, just fucking anything other than how it is now. Ian groans and runs a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp and groaning. It's silent except for the sound of wind outside blowing whatever trash is on the street, reminding him once again how much he hates the silence.

If it wasn't for Mickey, Ian would be seriously questioning if this stupid apartment in Brooklyn is actually a disguise for hell.

Ian takes another long drag, trying to let his mind go blank and failing miserably. _Thud._ He feels an empty beer can hit his face. Ian's eyes fly open as he hears Mickey's laughter ringing out.

"What the fuck Mickey?!" Ian rubs his eyes tiredly and sits forward, "I was trying to relax."

Mickey snorts, "you're tweaking like a bitch." He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, "c'mon Gallagher, get the fuck up, we're going."

Ian groans putting his face in his hands, "going where, Mickey?"

"Out," Mickey answers. "How long's it been since you've been out of this shithole?"

Ian looks up with a smug smile, "well last night I was at your place."

Mickey scowls and flips Ian off, throwing another empty beer can at him for good measure. Ian catches it easily and laughs. Mickey shifts, kicking out one leg and cracking his knuckles, "'aight, be serious, my place doesn't count and neither do the steps outside the building."

Ian leans back again, shrugging, "I guess before the announcement."

"I knew it. You fuckin' hermit," Mickey grins. "Get the fuck up, I got something to show you."

It doesn't take anymore convincing - Ian thinks maybe he's always just waiting for Mickey to come around and ask him to follow. Soon they're are outside the building, walking through a maze of streets and alleyways. Ian is only a step behind Mickey as they pass a joint back and forth. They walk for nearly fifteen minutes in perfect, content silence before they reach their destination. Mickey rushes ahead turning and grinning at Ian only a few meters behind.

"Fucking crazy, right?" Mickey says motioning out to the deserted space.

The view is incredible, looking out over the East River and the Brooklyn Bridge. Ian had been to the spot a handful of times, it isn't the best view point of the bridge but it's still usually full of people snapping photos and staring out at Manhattan. Ian had been in awe the first time he saw it, but the awe faded quickly when every time he came back it was just a damn tourist spot. Seeing it this time is like the first time because this time the view is completely undisturbed except for Mickey in front of him, his hands gesturing out and joy clear on his face. Ian smiles, taking a moment to admire Mickey looking so young and beautiful out in the daylight.

Ian walks forward, following Mickey and leaning on a railing separating them from the river. "It's so empty," Ian mutters, "fucking weird."

Mickey nods and bites his lip, looking at Ian nervously. "Yeah, but when else do you get to see fuckin' Manhattan with no dipshit tourists snapping photos behind you."

Ian looks to his right, Mickey is standing by his side and looking up at him with his striking blue eyes, the emotion he tries to hide so clear in the one look. Ian smiles because he gets it. Mickey's seen how crushed Ian is about his family, about the asteroid, and Mickey's trying to show him that maybe it's not all bad - that there are benefits to everything that's happening. It's optimistic as fuck - which Ian knows is a fucking stretch for Mickey - and Ian thinks he's probably wrong about the stupid Brooklyn Bridge being a 'benefit'. But there is a benefit, a fucking huge benefit to this stupid asteroid that's standing right next to Ian and, God, Ian's just so lucky to have someone as wonderful as Mickey. He wraps an arm around Mickey, pulling him against his chest and running a hand through his hair. His smile grows as he feels Mickey leaning into the embrace and resting his head against Ian's shoulder.

"Thank you," Ian murmurs and presses a soft kiss on the top of Mickey's head.

"Just a fucking river," Mickey answers quietly, eyes glued to the ground.

Ian reaches to tip Mickey's head up, he is so close Ian can feel his breath. Ian feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, everything about Mickey so close and so perfect, all he wants to do is lean down and kiss him. "No it's not," Ian whispers.

Mickey bites his lip and moves away from Ian quickly, clearing his throat and pointing to the bridge, "some shitheads are having a party up there."

Ian swallows his disappointment and looks to where Mickey is pointing. "Oh, you looking to make some friends?" Ian teases, grinning and watches as Mickey glares at him but returns the grin in spite of it. Ian watches as Mickey continues walking down the pathway. He closes his eyes briefly reliving the almost kiss following behind Mickey.

Ian could spend forever following Mickey.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Mickey slips out of bed before the sun has even risen.

He's careful not to wake Ian as he walks around his apartment, tossing things into a bag that he's not even sure if he will really need or not. Everything about his rushed quiet movements is reminding him of the night five years before when he ran away from Chicago.

Except this time he's not running away from anyone.

Mickey finishes packing his bag and wanders back into the bedroom. He can't resist smiling when he sees Ian passed out in his bed. He's lying on his stomach with his arms spread out and his mouth partially open. He'd taken his shirt off sometime throughout the night, the only thing left covering him is a pair of loosely fitting sweatpants.

Even drooling on Mickey's pillow, Ian looks so fucking hot Mickey has to pinch himself to prove he isn't dreaming.

Mickey rubs his lower lip with his thumb, debating whether he should hit him with a pillow or jump on top of him, licking and kissing him from head to toe. It's a harder debate than Mickey wants it to be. He eventually settles with jumping on the bed beside Ian and slamming a pillow into the back of the his head.

Ian wakes up disheveled and tired, he rubs his eyes and sees it's Mickey beside him. He smiles sleepily before rolling over to drape himself over top of Mickey, burying his face in Mickey's neck and running his hands along Mickey's sides.

Mickey sighs happily at the contact and listens to Ian's sleepy voice, "I'm tired Mick." 

"You gotta get up, Gallagher," Mickey murmurs into Ian's hair, closing his eyes and reveling in the feeling of closeness. He lets his hands drift up to Ian's hips, rubbing against the soft skin and sharp hip bones, imagining more - _wanting more_. As Mickey's fingers drift softly over Ian's skin he feels Ian's lips pressing against his neck, leaving wet kisses along his jaw and sucking on a pulse point. Mickey lets out a groan tightening his grip on Ian's hips because, fuck, this is what he's been dreaming about since the first day he saw Ian at the mailboxes.

"You sure you want me to get up?" Ian voice is rough as his hands trail up Mickey's shirt gripping at his skin and moving to kiss and lick the other side of his neck.

Mickey's never been good with words, so instead he pulls Ian's hips down and grinds against him.

The action has an instant effect, all the pent up lust and desire sending them into a flurry of biting, touching and scratching. Before Mickey has time to think Ian is pushing into him with a sharp gasp and he bites down on Mickey's shoulder. It's rough and fast, and it's better than anything Mickey could imagine. Ian grips him hard enough to leave bruises, thrusting into him at a brutal pace and the slapping of their skin so loud Mickey's sure that if anyone were still in the city they would be able to hear it.

Mickey can see stars, mouth wide open and moaning so fucking loudly as leans his head back against Ian's shoulder. Ian's tugging on his cock, whispering how fucking hot Mickey is, how good his ass is, how badly Ian's wanted him all this time.

"Gallagher, shit, so close," Mickey groans loudly when he can't take another fucking second, because all of it is just so damn good.

Ian's voice his low and filled with lust, hissing out Mickey's name as he bites down on Mickey's shoulder once again. Mickey bucks his hips at one particularly hard thrust, "holy fuck," he cries out and that's it. He comes hard, muscle convulse and tighten, hot spurts cover Ian's hand and then he's done, his moans muffled into Mickey's skin.

Ian collapses on top of Mickey. They're both breathing heavily and lying still, Ian's clinging to Mickey's back, fingers digging in almost painfully - neither of them ready to move yet.

Mickey feels incredible.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Ian can't help watching Mickey roll out of bed.

His eyes stay glued to Mickey as he wanders around the bed naked, picking up his messily discarded clothing and not even trying to hide his huge smile. Ian rests his head back, grinning at Mickey's sex hair and blissed out expression, eying the finger shaped bruises and scratch marks on his back. Ian could watch him all day. Ian tilts his head, admiring Mickey's perfect ass as he pulls on a pair of jeans. Fuck, Ian still can't believe that he just fucked Mickey.

Mickey shakes his head at Ian's blatant staring and tosses clothing at him. "Get up, you gotta get dressed."

Ian huffs out a laugh, "get dressed? You know, it's not polite to fuck someone and throw them out."

Mickey runs his tongue over his lower lip, running his eyes over Ian's naked body and shakes his head. "As if anyone would throw you out."

Ian grins widely and slips on his sweatpants, "so what are we doing that's so urgent?"

Mickey grabs a couple bags from the corner of the room and tosses one to Ian, "follow me." Mickey walks out of the room and Ian stands up, looking at the bag in his hands curiously as he hears Mickey yelling, "and put on a fuckin' shirt!"

Ian's started to get used to following Mickey around, completely unsure of where they will end up but trusting that Mickey is looking out for him. This time is no different as Ian blindly follows Mickey down the steps of their apartment building and into the back alley. It's empty, as usual, except for a little black truck covered from top to bottom in a thin layer of dirt. Ian's eyes widen as he sees Mickey tossing the bag he's been carrying in the bed and turn to Ian.

Mickey holds up a set of keys and bites his lip nervously, "still feel like going to Chicago?"

Ian's speechless.

He stands still for a long time, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open dumbly as he tries to process exactly what Mickey is offering him. He can go home. Mickey's fucking offering to take him home. Except, who the fuck knows what it's like on the highways, or what it's like in Chicago, or even on the way out of the fucking city. He composes himself slowly and frowns, stepping forward, letting the moment of indulgence pass over as he settles back into reality.

"Mick, it's a long drive and it's not going to be any better there than here."

Mickey crosses his arms stubbornly, "your family is there."

"There's going to be a shit ton of crazy people doing who knows what, and what if they steal your truck?" Ian tries to reason, he knows what Mickey is trying to do is just... it's incredible. But Ian knows what Lip and Fiona told him about trying to make the journey by himself, about how Chicago is right now, how the fucking world is right now.

Mickey laughs and closes the gap between them, he gently touches Ian's arm and looks up at him. "We're all dying in a week, if my truck gets stolen I really don't care, if some people are looking for a fight then I'll fucking fight them, and Chicago isn't too far - we can make it in two days with plenty of time." Mickey swallows and looks back at the truck, "you've gotta see your family, Ian."

Ian swallows and looks at the truck, then back at Mickey. He wants this, he wants it so fucking badly and his heart is aching. First, Mickey fucks him, fulfilling every daydream he's had for over a month, and then this. The day doesn't feel real, like somehow Mickey looked into his head, plucked out his greatest desires and made them come true. He nods and smiles weakly, because despite saying no at first, Ian knows that it was never a real option.

He follows Mickey's lead once again, getting into the truck and settling in as Mickey starts driving down the empty streets. Ian's feels lightheaded and dizzy, too deliriously happy really process what is going on. All he knows is that Mickey has done more for him than he could have ever expected from another person.

Ian watches Mickey drive and realizes that he is in love.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Mickey looks to his right and rolls his eyes.

Ian is passed out, his head bouncing and lolling at each bump in the road, mouth open wide and snoring softly. Mickey frowns, because he might be nice enough to give Ian - well, anything he wants actually, anything Mickey can - but, like fuck is he driving the whole way without some company. Mickey reaches over and punches Ian's arm, calling out, "Aye, Gallagher, wake the fuck up."

Ian groans loudly and blinks his eyes open, either squinting or glaring at Mickey. "Do you get some fucked up pleasure out of not letting me sleep?"

Mickey looks over at Ian with a dirty smile, "didn't hear you complaining about it this morning." Ian's energy seems to come back in full force as he grins in return. It's the big face splitting, too bright and too wide grin that Mickey loves seeing so much. Mickey turns his attention back to the road to keep himself from staring, and bites his lip, letting his mind wander to the events of the morning.

Ian leans over the center console, Mickey can feel his warm breath on his neck and his hand tracing shapes on Mickey's thigh. "Maybe I just need a reminder," he whispers and presses his lips down, nipping and sucking, his hand traveling higher to rub against Mickey's crotch through his jeans.

Mickey closes his eyes and breathes out shakily, enjoying the feeling and gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Fuck," he curses as his eyes snap open and he narrowly avoids driving into the ditch. Reluctantly, he pushes Ian away, earning a loud whine. "We're gonna crash if you keep doing that," Mickey explains, squirming in his seat as he adjusts his jeans. Fucking Ian just had to be a fucking tease.

"Alright," Ian laughs and leans back into his seat, "think of it as a taste of what's to come then."

Fuck, Mickey had known Ian was going to be this horny he would have fucked him weeks ago.

They drive for a few more hours, laughing and sharing stories about their past. Mickey finds himself intrigued by all of Ian's stories about his siblings. He knew a few of the Gallagher's when he was back in Canaryville; he had come across Frank and Monica a few times when they were searching for any type of high, and he bought a couple essays off Lip over the years. He doesn't know much about any of them though, all he knows is what everyone in the neighborhood knows - there are too many to count on one hand, they never have any money, and their parents are fucking useless.

Ian has an entirely different description of his siblings. He talks about how brave and strong Fiona is, how Lip is his best friend and biggest supporter, how Debbie is nurturing but tough, how Carl is violent but loves more fiercely than anyone - just in his own way, and how Liam is innocent, warm and the best to cuddle with when watching television late at night. The way Ian talks about each one of his siblings with so much warmth and love shocks Mickey. It's strange to even think a family could care that much about each other. Mickey is struck by how completely opposite the homes they had grown up in are.

Mickey sits on the bed in a hotel they had broken into. He's just gotten out of the shower, sitting in his boxers and waiting for Ian to come back from his own shower. He lights a cigarette trying to shove the thoughts of his family from his mind when he hears Ian turning off the water to the shower. There's a towel wrapped around Ian's waist when he steps out of the bathroom and walks over to Mickey, his chest and stomach still covered in beads of water, biceps bulging and on display. Jesus, the kids going to be the fucking death of Mickey, no one should be allowed to look that good.

"You okay?" Ian asks, furrowing his brow.

Mickey swallows and licks his lower lip sensually, spreading his legs a little wider as Ian approaches. "Yeah, Gallagher, of course."

Ian slides on to the bed next to Mickey and reaches up with one hand to massage Mickey's neck. Ian keeps his eyes on Mickey as he speaks, "you seem tense."

Mickey frowns, because honestly he thought he was hiding it better. "It's.." Mickey's voice trails off, about to throw out some lame come on that would hopefully result in another good, hard fucking. But then he looks at Ian and meets those big green eyes, filled with honesty and concern, just waiting for an answer. Mickey doesn't think he could lie if he wanted to. "My families pretty fucked up," Mickey finally settles on the answer, "you're really lucky."

Ian smiles softly and nods, he shuffles to sit closely behind Mickey. He continues to massage Mickey's neck and back, sometimes pausing to run his fingers along Mickey's sides. "Tell me about them," Ian's voice is as soft as his touch, Mickey can't remember a time before Ian that someone was this soft with him.

Mickey shakes his head, "you don't want to know about that shit show."

"I want to know everything about you."

Mickey pauses, pulling away from Ian's touch and turning around. Mickey's eyes meet Ian's and he feels a warmth spreading through his chest, because Ian means it. In all his life, Mickey's never known someone that cares about him - not really. There's never been anyone that's just wanted to be with him, that's wanted to just know him. No one except Ian. Mickey surprises himself when he leans forward, wrapping a hand around the back of Ian's neck, and pressing his lips firmly against Ian's. It's nothing special at first, but Mickey's tingling from head to toe just from the smallest touch. Then Ian pulls him closer, deepening the kiss as Mickey climbs onto Ian's lap straddling him and biting his lower lip. 

There's probably too much tongue and their teeth bang together painfully - Mickey thinks it's a lot like how they fuck; brutal and passionate. It's perfect, and Mickey wouldn't have it any other way.

Ian pulls away breathing heavily, he places soft kiss along Mickey's jaw and holds him tightly in his arms. Mickey's never felt more warm and content than he does in Ian's arms.

"Tell me," Ian mutters against Mickey's skin, "please."

Mickey smiles and runs his hands through Ian's hair, he knows that within the next ten minutes they'll probably be fucking but he thinks maybe this is something he needs to talk about, after all he doesn't have much time left to do it.

He starts by talking about Mandy, she's the only one worth talking about anyways.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Ian's convinced it's a miracle when they see a still running restaurant.

He's starving and they haven't passed a gas station or town in miles. When Ian sees the little place with cars parked nearby and a large sign reading  _'_ _We're Still Serving'_ he starts badgering Mickey to pull over. There is a long discussion about how Mickey is convinced it's some fucked up trap for naïve people like Ian, to which Ian explains that no one cares enough to put that much effort into hurting random people anymore. It takes awhile but Ian manages to convince Mickey stopping is a good idea.

Ian laughs when Mickey still brings brass knuckles inside with him.

When they walk inside the place seems like nothing ever happened. The servers are friendly and wandering around offering drinks and food, the only difference being that it's all free of charge. Ian begins to wonder if maybe things aren't as dark on the road as his family has made it out to be.

"Table for two," Ian speaks politely to the hostess standing by the door.

She smiles brightly and grabs two paper menus from behind her, "sounds perfect! Here are your menus, pick a seat anywhere you like and someone will be right with you!"

Mickey grumbles about how she's too damn perky and takes the menus, following Ian through the restaurant and the crowds of overly cheery people. They pick a more secluded booth near the back. Mickey looks around and shakes his head, "is everybody in here fucking high?"

"Probably," Ian responds with a laugh and starts reading over the menu. "All these things seem made up..."

Mickey raises his brow and looks at the menu as well, "what is this shit?"

"It's everything and anything we have in the back!" Their server says happily, just as cheery as the hostess, when she reaches them just in time to hear Mickey speak. She places two ridiculously large, fruity smoothies in front of them, "filled with vodka and tequila, the bartender just made up a bunch." She takes out a pen and paper and slides into a seat next to Mickey, seeming completely unaware of his obvious discomfort. "So what can I get you strapping young men?"

"You got burgers?" Mickey questions harshly.

The waitress looks over at Mickey and laughs, it's high pitch and grating. "Of course we have burgers silly!" She drags the menu to her and points at a list of burger's with ridiculous toppings and cooking methods, stretching from M&M flavored buns to deep fried in pickle juice. "Which one do you fancy?" She asks and watches him expectantly.

Mickey glares in response, "how about a fucking burger."

The waitress shrugs and nods, completely unfazed by Mickey's hostility, and turns her head to Ian. "How about you?"

Ian laughs, "the same for me."

She grins and grabs the menus, "two burgers coming right up! You boys interested in anything else? One of the kitchen guys managed to raid a drug store right when the announcement came out so we have tons of good prescription stuff if you're interested."

"So you are all high as fuck," Mickey responds and licks his lips. "You got some spliffs?"

The waitress nods, "I'll be right back." She walks away, waving at tables and pausing to dance to music every few steps.

Ian leans back and crosses his arms looking at Mickey curiously, "just spliffs?"

Mickey shrugs and leans back as well, "still gotta drive and drink this fruity shit." He nods at the comically large drinks sitting on the table in front of them.

Ian just smiles and watches as Mickey takes a sip. His discomfort from the waitress seems to have faded away now that their alone, back in their own little world away from everyone else. It's quiet as Mickey sips from his drink, looking down at the table and he drawing invisible patterns on the wood with his fingers. Ian watches him, thinking about how those fingers traced the same patterns on his skin the night before, he imagines the sensation as Mickey's fingers move. He shivers, his skin tingling from even the thought of Mickey's hands brushing over his skin. 

Their food arrives quickly, spliffs at the same time, they eat with the same comfortable silence through their booth. Ian imagines that this is what it could have been like if they had known each other earlier. Laughing loudly on road trips, long fucks in cheap hotels, smiles and secret looks over dinner. It's a life that Ian didn't even know that he wanted, but now that he's met Mickey that's all he can imagine. He wishes that's something they could have had, or even just more time together to just _be._ Falling more and more in love with everyday their together, though Ian doesn't think he could possibly love Mickey anymore than he already does.

God, he really wishes he could do as much for Mickey as Mickey has done for him.

"How's the food?" The waitress bounces over to their booth ruining the silence, "looks like you're just about all done."

Mickey doesn't look at her, giving a quick thumbs up as he switches between chewing and smoking.

"It's great," Ian says, "thank you for all of this."

She slides back into the booth next to Mickey, "of course," she answers and suddenly she's running a hand over Mickey's arms. "And if you guys want to stay for a little while longer that would be cool."

Mickey's eyes widen and he glances over at the waitress, she's unabashedly staring at him with wide eyes. Ian feels his blood boiling, jealous burning through him at the clear flirting happening. Mickey simply huffs a laugh, like it's one big joke, and swallows the last of his burger. The waitress looks to Ian quickly, he's not even pretending not to be glaring at her hand so he's sure she knows how close he is to tossing her through a nearby wall. "Of course, there will be someone for you too!" She says quickly to Ian as her other hand travels under the table, "I mean, everyone's going to be involved." She turns back to Mickey, who's eyebrows are raised and he's looking at Ian.

Ian furrows his brow, briefly forgetting his rage as he peaks outside their booth to see most people in the restaurant have started groping at each other and removing their clothes. Ian sits back and clears his throat, "I think it's time to go."

Mickey nods quickly and pushes the waitress aside, rushing out of the restaurant behind Ian, laughing to himself and poking at Ian's back. They exit the building and Mickey is grinning cockily at Ian as he leans back against the truck, "told you they were luring in naïve travelers."

Ian rolls his eyes, "for an orgy, not to murder. It's nothing bad."

Mickey steps forward, "oh yeah? Should I run back in there and tell Little Miss Sunshine we're in? Might just be the best night of our lives."

Ian pushes Mickey back against the truck and shakes his head, trapping Mickey's body between him and the truck. He leans down and presses his lips roughly against Mickey's, letting out a small moan as Mickey parts his lips drawing Ian in closer and licking inside his mouth. Ian pushes his leg up against Mickey's crotch roughly, letting him grind against it and gasp into Ian's mouth.

Ian pulls away suddenly and breathes out deeply, resting his forehead against Mickey's. "Nothing could be better than you."

Mickey stares at Ian with the same curious look he always gets when Ian talks about how much he loves what they have - how much Ian needs it and craves it. Ian never knows what to think about the look, it's like Mickey's surprised to hear Ian saying the words and struggling to know how he should feel. Ian likes to think that Mickey feels the same way, though he knows it's probably just wishful thinking at this point. He, at the very least, hopes Mickey knows that whatever Ian says to him is so completely and wonderfully true.

Ian draws away from the heavy moment, grinning goofily and grabbing the keys from Mickey's pocket. He pushes away and moves to the drivers door, "get in, I'm driving."

Mickey laughs and nods, walking to the passenger side without complaint. The same comfortable silence falls over them as Ian drives out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. Ian leans back letting his arm rest on the center console and relaxes into the seat as he drives. A second passes and he feels Mickey reach over, taking Ian's free hand and twining their fingers together. Ian smiles without looking over at Mickey, knowing Mickey won't be looking at him anyways.

He thinks with Mickey it will always be actions over words.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Mickey recognizes the street they park on, but it's not the right one.

He looks over at Ian and then looks past him to the little house they have stopped in front of. It's not far from where Mickey used to live, it's not quite the Back of the Yards, but it's still Southside. Mickey remembers walking down this street a couple of times to go on deals with his brothers and there was a house on the corner they ended up at more than a few times to deliver a beat down. He looks back at Ian and it's filled with a sense of dread when he sees the combination of guilt and hopefulness in Ian's eyes.

"You Gallagher's move after I left?" Mickey asks, even though he gets the feeling this definitely isn't the Gallagher's house.

Ian fidgets nervously and looks down at his hands, "I called Lip a couple hours ago while you were taking a piss."

Mickey stares at Ian expectantly but when Ian remains quiet he clears his throat and grunts, "okay, you want a fucking medal?"

Ian swallows, "don't be mad, but I got him to give me Mandy's address."

Mickey feels the effects of Ian's word instantly and his expression turns cold. He shakes his head and turns away from Ian, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip and trying to contain his anger. "This is her house?" He questions, his voice is low and dangerous. He keeps his eyes on the street away from what he's sure is Ian's sad puppy dog-eyed pout.

"Yes."

He wants to hit Ian. Or he wants to want to hit Ian, and the fact that he doesn't kind of pisses him off more.

"What the fuck gives you the right?" Mickey growls, clenching his fists until his fingernails dig into his palm painfully.

"She's your family," Ian answers after a long pause, "do you really want her to die without saying goodbye one last time?"

Mickey's head snaps up and his eyes meet Ian's, "I left her for good years ago Gallagher, what good is digging up all that shit now? I'm already dead to her, doesn't fucking matter if I go out without saying goodbye." He swallows and bites his lip, "I told you all of this, you fucking knew it and you still brought me here!" He's shakes his head again, getting out of the truck and slamming the door. Ian's frozen in his seat when Mickey starts punching the metal of the already dented truck. He doesn't know how long Ian leaves him alone to let out his anger, he loses track of the time just throwing one punch after another. He lets it hurt, lets it burn and make him want to scream. When he finally stops it's only because he notices blood trickling into his palms from his torn and throbbing knuckles.

"Fuck," he mutters and leans his back against the truck, closing his eyes and trying to shut out the silence. It's deafening and painful, everything is crashing around him and becoming real as he stands outside his sisters house, cursing and bleeding. Suddenly he's painfully aware of the asteroid hurdling through space towards them, how close it is and how suffocating. It never felt real before, not really, but now it is. He's struck with the total painful clarity that it's right fucking there, and he realizes how close he is to losing everything -  fuck, he's terrified.

He blindly reaches out his hand until he feels Ian taking hold of it.

He breathes in, letting Ian's grip keep him calm and grounded. As his foggy mind begins to clear he can vaguely hear Ian whispering that he's sorry over and over, he opens his eyes and Ian's standing in front of him. Beautiful, perfect Ian Gallagher watching him with pleading eyes, green and sparkling like they always seem to be.

Mickey looks down at his hands being held carefully in Ian's, and bites his lip, "alright, come on Gallagher, let's go knock on her door."

Ian smiles and nods, following Mickey's lead up the pathway and standing just behind him as Mickey knocks on the door. He gnaws at his bottom lip, trying to ignore the nervousness coursing through him and convincing himself that Mandy will happy to see him. He hears footsteps and they stop at the door, Mickey looks at the peephole knowing that someone is staring through it at him.

"Fuck," he hears the muffled voice from inside and the locks are being undone. The door swings open and Mandy is standing in front of him. She looks the same as she always has, only a few years older and with less random colors in her hair. He doesn't get a chance to say anything before her fist meets his face, Mickey curses but doesn't bother to retaliate, he always figured if he saw Mandy again their greeting wouldn't go over entirely smoothly. A second later her arms are wrapped around his neck and she's laughing.

"I missed you shithead."


	3. The Hour is Getting Late

Ian wishes he'd gotten to know Mandy.  
  
He had known her, of course, but only a little bit. They were in the same grade throughout school and Lip had dated her for some time after things between him and Karen didn't work out. She would spend time at the Gallagher house, sleeping in Lip's room, talking with Debbie, and tagging along with Ian and Lip when they would run around the south side causing havoc. He had never actually gotten to know her though. After he had disliked Karen so much he never really considered that he would actually like one of Lip's girlfriends.  
  
It also didn't help that Mandy hadn't liked him since she tried to sleep with him one time and Ian had turned her down. She had sworn that she would send her brother's after him but nothing seemed to come out of it. Looking back, Ian figures that with Mickey gone it was probably a very lonely household for her. But now, cooking with Mandy in the kitchen - and leaving Mickey to awkwardly talk in the living room with Mandy's boyfriend, Daniel - he finds himself genuinely enjoying her company.  
  
"I have to say, I'm pretty fuckin' shocked you guys managed to find me." Mandy comments, glancing up at Ian as she sprinkles some spices into the soup she's been putting together for dinner and absently stirring it.  
  
Ian laughs and nods, "Lip told me where you live, he's pretty good at keeping tabs on people."  
  
"What about you two meeting?" Mandy asks, turning her gaze back to the soup, "that might actually be more shocking."  
  
"Well, we share an apartment building as it turns out."  
  
Mandy furrows her brow, "really? In Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, I guess he's been living there all along." Ian says, trying to hide his surprise that Mandy knows where he lives by sipping at the beer in his hand.  
  
Mandy lifts her head and looks into the living room then back to the soup, brow furrowed with large, sad eyes. "He was so much closer than I thought he would be."  
  
Ian looks into the living room as well, watching Mickey silently nodding to whatever Daniel is saying and picking at the label on his beer bottle. He looks tense and nervous, but when he glances up from the bottle and his eyes meet Ian's the nervousness seems to dissipate; he stops picking at the label and his body visibly relaxes. Ian smiles affectionately at him and laughs when Mickey flips him off discreetly before turning back to his conversation with Daniel.  
  
"He cares a lot about you," Mandy's voice startles Ian. She's leaned back, watching the exchange between him and Mickey. "He seems happy and fuckin' content around you, like a whole new version of himself." Mandy snorts and crosses her arms,"never thought I'd see Mickey in love, but I guess there's a first for everything."  
  
"In love?" Ian says, trying not to stutter as his heart beats faster.  
  
Mandy grins and nudges Ian, "well you guys are together, aren't you?"  
  
He doesn't know how Mandy knows that he is gay, never mind how she knows Mickey is gay, but the thought doesn't really concern him. The only thing Ian can focus on is Mickey being in love; in love with him. Ian bites his lip, tries to hold back from grinning too widely, and answers, "Yeah."  
  
Mandy pokes his side and starts humming a mocking and mangled version of _'Can You Feel The Love Tonight'_ that makes Ian seriously question if she has actually heard the song in the past ten years. Ian starts poking Mandy back as they finish up dinner, sending her into a fit of giggles and causing her to mangle the tune further.  
  
They all sit around the table eating and things seemed normal enough. Mickey and Mandy bicker back and forth, calling each other names and exchanging crude gestures. Ian can't help but laugh at how different their relationship is in comparison to his with his own siblings, and yet at the same time it's so similar. They have that way about them that all siblings do, a certain level of comfort that comes with knowing no matter what the other person will put up with your shit. It feels his stomach knot a bit with jealousy as he watches them interact; a longing for his own siblings and that odd contentedness that comes with them. Time seems to fly by and dinner is over before Ian knows what's happening. Daniel goes to bed early, saying goodnight and once again letting Mickey and Ian know how wonderful it is to meet them. Mandy spends the next hour telling Ian stories all about Mickey in his youth. Ian remembers a couple of them, just from living in the same neighborhood, but some are new, secret stories that only the youngest Milkovich siblings shared. Ian sits and listens for as long as he can stay awake, smiling and laughing at all the right times, and admiring how both Mickey and Mandy get this soft look when they talk to each other - like no matter how cruel they get, none of it means anything, and they love each other.

Finally, it gets too late for Ian to handle and he politely excuses himself to go to bed, only stopping to have a smoke outside. When he walks in he has to pause and watch as Mandy cuddles next to Mickey, he wraps an arm over her shoulders in response, casually holding her next to him. They're talking about their lives, what's happened to the rest of the family and how Mandy met Daniel - she laughs when Mickey threatens to beat the shit out of him if he ever hurts her. Their laughter dies down as their conversation turns more serious, Ian feels like he's intruding but can't bring himself to move.

"I'm glad you left," Mandy's voice is quiet but firm, "you needed to get out, and I'm glad you did."  
  
"Should've taken you with me," Mickey mutters.  
  
Mandy shakes her head and clings to her brother a little tighter, "I wouldn't have gone, besides I wouldn't have met Daniel then and-" Her voice trails off a bit and she looks up at Mickey, "you might not have met Ian."  
  
Mickey looks away from Mandy, avoiding her gaze and looking at the floor. Ian feels his throat tighten as he watches the scene, torn between running from whatever Mickey will say and wanting nothing more than to hear it.  
  
"Mick?" Mandy says softly causing Mickey to look back at her, "he's a really good guy."  
  
Mickey nods and licks his lips. "Yeah," he croaks out and breathes in, "he's - yeah."  
  
"You love him and you can't even say it, can you?" Mandy teases with a small smile.  
  
"Fuck off; I can say whatever I want." Mickey responds, shoving her head away playful before letting her cuddle back against him a second later.  
  
It's quiet between them and Ian swallows, his heart feels heavier than before and he thinks that he should probably slip off to the guest room before he gets caught eavesdropping. He starts walking and stops when he hears Mickey speaking quietly once again.  
  
"He's incredible."  
  
When Mickey crawls into bed a few hours later, Ian's still half awake. He rolls over to pull Mickey tightly against him, wrapping his arm over Mickey's chest and clutching his hand. He presses his nose against Mickey's hair and breathes in, whispering, "so happy I'm here with you."  
  
Mickey squeezes Ian's hand in return, lifting his hand to rest on the back of Ian's neck pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss that doesn't last nearly long enough for Ian. Mickey rests his head against Ian's chest and tangles their legs together. When Mickey speaks it's almost to quiet for Ian to hear it.  
  
"Happy I'm with you."

 

  
-

 

  
Mickey wakes up to Ian already out of bed and dressed.  
  
He's pacing the room and nervously rubbing his hands together. Mickey bites his lower lip and discreetly watches Ian, enjoying seeing how flustered and excited he is - something about it is just so damn endearing and adorable (well, everything Ian does seems pretty endearing and adorable, so maybe he shouldn't be surprised) Mickey rolls over a bit, hoping to grab Ian's attention but Ian is so busy looping back and forth near the foot of the bed to pay any attention to any other ongoings in the room. Mickey finally sits up, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "You doing okay?"  
  
Ian's head snaps up, he blinks about six times in rapid succession and he nods, "Didn't tell them I was coming."  
  
Mickey snorts and shakes his head, "They don't know? I thought you called Lip."  
  
"Didn't mention it, didn't want them to be worried." Ian drops heavily onto the bed, sprawling back across the length of the mattress beside Mickey and lets out a long, deep sigh, "And everyone likes surprises, right? Especially good ones, so I figure they'll be more happy than mad." He looks up at Mickey with a nervous hopefulness, "I'm right, right?"  
  
Mickey gently brushes aside some loose hair from Ian's eyes, fingers lightly grazing his forehead and combing through his hair. Mickey lays back again, resting on the mattress and shuffling until he and Ian are eye level. He watches Ian fondly and gives him a reassuring nod, "Stop stressing, you're gonna go bald."  
  
Ian laughs and picks up a pillow, swinging it around to smack Mickey's face quickly, "Fuck you, I am not."  
  
Mickey shoves the pillow off and glares at Ian's playful and childish grin. He weighs his options quickly, considering the best method of retaliation before his expression turns into a sly grin. Mickey slowly raises his eyebrows and licks his lower lip suggestively, eyes running over the expanse of Ian's body. In a flash Mickey pushes the blankets still covering his lower half aside and swings a leg over Ian, straddling him and holding his arms down, effectively pinning him to the mattress.

"You know, I think that counts as abuse, Ian."  
  
"If that's what counts as abuse I think we're both screwed," Ian voice is coy and teasing, like he could do this all day, but his pupils are blown wide with lust, giving him away. Mickey loves that look on Ian, the desire and neediness for nothing but Mickey, even if they did have longer than a week to live he doesn't think he would ever get enough of that look - or any look that Ian gives him. Everything about Ian is so goddamn addictive.  
  
"Or did you forget that I punched you in the face the first time we really met?" Ian continues his previous statement, a smug smirk growing on his lips as he uses whatever room he has under Mickey to roll his hips, rubbing his crotch against Mickey's. Mickey gasps and bites his lip, his body responding almost instantly by grinding down hard against Ian. Ian moans lowly at the increased friction, eyelids fluttering as he rests his head back. Mickey grins and and continues the rougher pace, tangling his fingers with Ian's and pressing his hands down into the mattress. He keeps his eyes locked on Ian; how his lips part and the flush on his neck. Jesus Christ, Mickey is fucking mesmerized by him.  
  
"Yeah, and I gave you a bloody nose right after," Mickey says, leaning down to kiss wetly along Ian's jaw.  
  
"Asshole," Ian breathes out, too distracted and caught up in Mickey for any malicious intent the word might have had to come across.  
  
"You deserved it," Mickey answers, punctuating it by sucking on Ian's earlobe and rolling his hips once again. Ian moans louder this time, he's losing himself and Mickey's smug look fades with the noise. He loves how vocal Ian can get, all the hot little noises he makes drive Mickey fucking insane. "Fuck, I can think of so many things you deserve," Mickey's voice is audibly lower as he finds he's losing himself just as much as Ian.  
  
Ian's eyes snap open and he glares up at Mickey, "Then shut the fuck up and show me."  
  
Mickey doesn't need to be told twice.

 

  
-

 

  
Ian is sure his heart is going to beat out of his chest.  
  
He is so fucking nervous he doesn't really know what to do with himself. His house looks the same as it always has; the yard is messier and he's pretty sure there's an extra lock on the door but otherwise it's like no time has passed at all. Fuck, it's like they aren't in the middle of the end of the world right now. Mickey's truck is parked across the street, the gas is turned off and Mickey is sitting watching Ian.  
  
Ian breathes in and turns his head, grinning at Mickey. "Ready?"  
  
Mickey scowls, "don't think I'm ever going to be ready to face a pack of fucking Gallagher's."  
  
Ian laughs loudly and swiftly exits the vehicle, marching across the street and through the gate with Mickey close behind.  
  
"Ian! Oh my god!"  
  
The door swings open and Fiona is rushing towards him, her arms outstretched and disbelief on her face. She jumps up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close as he looks up to see Carl and Debbie running out the door and piling into the hug as well. He grins and wraps his arms around his siblings, burying his face into Fiona's shoulder and reveling in the warm family feeling.  
  
"Hi guys," Ian mumbles and pulls them closer for a moment before pulling away and looking up to see Lip on the steps, with Jimmy in the doorway holding Liam on his hip.  
  
Lip laughs and pulls Ian into a short hug, "should've known you would find a way here even though we told you not to."  
  
Ian laughs with a nod, dropping a kiss on Liam’s head as Jimmy slaps a hand on his back saying, "welcome back man, good to see you."  
  
Lip freezes and glances at Ian, "Mickey?"  
  
Ian looks back, sees Mickey shuffling awkwardly on his feet and looking anywhere but at the family reunion happening in front of him.

"Yeah," Ian answers and smiles fondly at him. He loves seeing Mickey standing outside in the sun, loves seeing him being awkward and adorable more. He actually just loves seeing Mickey in general. Mickey's gaze eventually meets Ian's and Ian motions from him to come over. Mickey grumbles and walks over to Ian's side.  
  
"Mickey, he helped me get here. He had a truck and drove almost the whole way." Ian's eyes are glued to Mickey, even as he speaks to his family, "I wouldn't be here without him."  
  
Both Ian and Mickey are startled as Fiona is wrapping her arms around Mickey's neck and pulling him into a tight hug as well. Mickey looks at Ian, eyes wide and his arms remaining firmly against his sides.  
  
"Thank you," Fiona says, tears in her eyes and her voice a little rough, "thank you so much."  
  
Lip nods at Mickey; something Ian is sure Mickey appreciates a lot more. "Yeah, uh, thanks."  
  
Mickey shrugs as Fiona pulls away. Quietly he mumbles, "not a big deal."  
  
"Did you have to kill anyone?" Carl is asking, breaking the awkward moment and staring wide eyed at Ian and Mickey, "how many riots were there? Did you run over anybody? Come across a burning pile of bodies? I heard that some people are having ritual sacrifices to the Gods."  
  
Ian laughs, maybe he shouldn't because questions like that - at a time like this - probably aren't in the best taste, but Ian's filled with insurmountable joy knowing that when it comes to his home and family, some things will never change. He ruffles Carl's hair and Fiona herds everyone back inside.  
  
Mickey walks beside Ian and whispers, "your brothers a fucking sociopath."  
  
It doesn't take long for everyone to settle back into house. Fiona and Jimmy go to the kitchen, Fiona is sure they have something to make a nice celebration dinner out of while Jimmy sits at the table coloring and playing with Liam. Carl and Debbie are both in the living room, playing battleship _'for old times’ sake'_ and quizzing Mickey, who makes the poor decision to sit in the armchair and gets himself trapped in the conversation.  
  
Ian has been watching him for awhile - smiling and laughing as Mickey unsuccessfully guides his way through the various topics being thrown at him - when Lip taps him on the shoulder and waves his hand, gesturing for Ian to follow him upstairs. Ian nods and rushes up the stairs, quickly calling out to Mickey; "back in a minute."  
  
Ian laughs as he walks into his old bedroom and sees Lip sitting on his old bed and smoking a cigarette. "For old times’ sake?" Ian questions, mimicking his younger siblings earlier excuse.  
  
Lip just nods and pats the spot beside him which Ian is more than happy to occupy.  
  
"So, Mickey Milkovich?" Lip questions as Ian lights his own cigarette.  
  
Ian nods, "Mickey Milkovich."  
  
"You've got doe eyes every time you look at him," Lip speaks with a cocky smile and a mocking tone that Ian has come to know too well over the years. "Crushing on him?"  
  
"Fucking him, actually." Ian answers smugly, reveling in the shocked expression on Lip's face.  
  
"Holy shit," Lip quips, nodding and taking a drag. "I would not have guessed that."  
  
Ian laughs, "me either, but he's pretty..." Ian smiles and looks down, thinking back to the night before. "He's incredible."  
  
"In bed?" Lip's smug expression is back in full force.  
  
Ian rolls his eyes, "in general."  
  
"So not in bed?"  
  
"Do you really want to hear about how incredible he is in bed?"  
  
Lip chuckles and shakes his head. He takes another drag and turns to Ian, his expression becoming more serious. "Well, he brought you back home, that means a lot. Not just to you, but to all of us. He obviously cares a lot about you."  
  
"I hope so," Ian answers and breathes in, "I think so."  
  
Lip just laughs and shakes his head, "you, my brother, are an idiot."

 

-

 

Mickey wants to watch Ian smiling forever.

He swears that he hasn't seen even a hint of a frown since Ian first saw his sister rushing out the door. It's too wide, and too bright, always there and drives Mickey insane because he loves seeing it too much. Of course, he has seen Ian's smile many times before, but never in such a permanent way. There has always been something that will drag Ian's mood down again, but in his childhood home it is like Ian has found his own piece of heaven.

Mickey is sitting on the bottom step of the stairs alone, sipping at a beer, watching Ian dancing and playing with his siblings and their neighbors, Kevin and Veronica, who have slipped into the house for the mini-celebration. He feels a little awkward there, like he doesn't quite fit into the mix, so he just keeps to the side and watches. It doesn't bother Mickey, he's content just drinking a beer and watching Ian running around looking as perfect as ever.

Maybe Mandy is right, maybe he is in love.

Ian catches his eye and grins even wider at him, his green eyes sparkling and cheeks tinged pink from the alcohol. Mickey's heart swells and he smiles in return.

Yeah, he is definitely in love.

He looks to his left as Fiona drops down beside him and giggles. She is sipping at her beer and sporting the same pink tinge on her cheeks as Ian. "How’s it going?" She asks brightly, slurring her words slightly.

Mickey smirks, "Alright, you all are a fucking cheery bunch all things considered."

Fiona shrugs, "no point in moping around." She leans over and nudges Mickey when he remains silent, "thanks for bringing my brother back."

"You said that already," Mickey mutters, trying and failing at hiding his discomfort with the topic.

Fiona laughs loudly and nods, "but I mean it, and just look at how happy he is. He really needed to be with family."

Mickey turns his gaze back to Ian and breathes in, "yeah, he did." He looks down clearing his throat, "he does."

Fiona smiles and leans over, kissing him on the cheek - earning a small disgruntled growl from Mickey - and stands. "You should join in, have some fun." She looks like she has something more to say but is distracted when Veronica dances over to her, and the two women begin shaking their hips and throwing their arms around each other. Mickey raises his eyebrows and stands, taking it as his queue to leave that area.

The party dies down eventually, everyone separating to go to their rooms. Lip offers Ian and Mickey his own room with the double bed, saying that it will be more comfortable than the little bed in the boys room and citing that he does owe Mickey for bringing his brother back after all.

Mickey is already lying in the bed, shifting around and trying to get comfortable, when Ian slides in beside him. He pulls Mickey close until Mickey's back is flush against Ian's chest. Ian presses a line of kisses from Mickey's shoulder to just behind his ear, humming and running his fingers along Mickey's arm.

"Thank you," he whispers and grips Mickey's hand tightly.

"Would you stop fucking saying that?" Mickey can't resist the smile spreading on his lips. His words are lacking any of their bite when he speaks.

"No," Ian answers, continuing to softly kiss his skin. "Shit, you're so amazing, Mick. Just perfect and wonderful and fucking hot," he begins stumbling around his words, the alcohol still in his system and the drowsy effects settling in. "So fucking amazing, Mickey. I just - you're the best."

Mickey laughs lowly as he hears Ian begin to snore softly; Ian certainly is chatty when he is drunk. Mickey breathes in and closes his eyes gripping Ian's hand and trying to clear his mind.

He can't though, not this night. He keeps thinking about Ian dancing and laughing, spending time with his family and looking happier than Mickey has ever seen him. Ian looked so beautiful and free, and all he had needed was his family - a family that Mickey would never fit in to. He is awkward and uncomfortable, constantly looking to and depending on Ian around them. He just doesn't mix.

Mickey kind of hates them for making Ian so happy, wishing that he had been the one to make Ian's grin permanent. Ian is all Mickey needs, but he isn't all Ian needs.

Mickey breathes in and grips Ian's hand a little tighter, pulling him a little closer and enjoying the warm feeling spreading through him.

Fiona had been right. Ian needs his family, and he doesn't need Mickey. It's okay though, he understands - he didn't bring Ian all the way to Chicago to spend time with him.  
  
Ian's happy and that's all that matters.

Love is supposed to be selfless after all.

 

-

 

Ian wakes up alone.

He blinks wearily and feels the slight pounding in his head from drinking last night. It takes him a couple a seconds before his blurry vision returns to normal and he groans sitting up. He looks around the room and picks up the glass of water on the night stand, drinking nearly the whole thing in one go. He rubs his eyes and slips out of the bed, wandering into the hall and looking around for Mickey.

He hates waking up without Mickey cuddled up with him, even if it has only been a few weeks the habit has already been formed. His entire day is feeling off without being able to hold and kiss Mickey before doing anything else.

Ian wanders down the stairs, furrowing his brow when the only people in the kitchen are Lip and Jimmy.

"Hey man," Lip greets as he flips some pancakes on the griddle. "Sleep well? Lots of wild sex?"

"Why do you keep asking if you don't want to know?" Ian grumbles and walks to the archway, looking into the living room. "Either of you seen Mickey today?"

Lip shakes his head a little too quickly while Jimmy sits up straighter looking over at Ian, "I did, briefly this morning."

"And?" Ian prods.

"He said he was going out for a bit," Jimmy answers, his eyes downcast and his voice a little too casual for comfort.

Ian steps forward, "how long ago?"

Jimmy glances at Lip quickly before looking back at Ian, "few hours ago."

Ian looks between Lip and Jimmy, a feeling of dread filling him as silence falls over the room. "What's going on? What's wrong?" Ian questions, growing more paranoid with each passing second.

Jimmy opens his mouth to speak but Lip cuts him off at the last second. "He had a bag, Ian, he's not coming back."

"What happened?! What did you say?!" Ian growls rounding on Lip, and glaring down at his brother.

Lip put up his hands and steps back, "nothing! He said you were happy here and he just needed to go."

"No."

Lip rolls his eyes and puts a hand on Ian's shoulder, "shit, Ian, he's trying to look out for you. He said he doesn't fit in here, and yeah, that's true. He's Mickey fucking Milkovich."

"I know who he is," Ian growls and turns to look at Jimmy. "I think I know where he went, I just need a car. Can you help me?"

Jimmy sighs, "I guess, I don't know if it's a great idea though."

"Seriously Ian?!" Lip shakes his head and purses his lips, "I know he's your fuck buddy but you can't leave your family!"

Ian keeps his gaze fixed on Jimmy, trying to keep his voice strong but it cracks as he speaks, "if Fiona took off you know would follow her anywhere, so please?"

Jimmy nods and stands, "don't tell your sister I'm doing this."

"Fuck," Lip cries out as he kicks the lower cupboards in the kitchen, "we just got you back and you're taking off again?"

Ian breathes in deeply and holds Lip's gaze, "I need him. Please, just, I need you to understand that."

Lip's fierce expression softens, "yeah, I get it."

Ian nods and pulls his brother into a quick hug, "I'll be back to say goodbye."

 

-

 

Mickey makes the drive in one day.

His apartment feels cold and empty. He snorts loudly, all of Brooklyn is probably empty at this point. He drops his bag on the ground and walks into his bedroom, collapsing on his bed. He figures the best and only thing to do at this point is to sleep through the next day and a half.

He shifts around uncomfortably, pulling off layers of clothing hoping it will help until he is left naked and shivering under thin blankets trying his best to ignore the fact that he doesn't have a tall, redheaded heater wrapped around him.

"Fuck," he groans out and buries his face in the pillow Ian has been using. He breathes in, letting Ian overtake his senses and closes his eyes. He begins to drift off to sleep, thinking only of Ian - touching him, kissing him, hugging him, listening to him, and even just fucking looking at him.

Maybe he will be lucky and just never wake up again.

 

-

 

Ian is pissed off, so he throws his bag at Mickey's head.

Stealing a car with Jimmy takes surprisingly less time than he had expects, saying goodbye to his family for the last time takes much longer. They all cry, Ian is sure he is sobbing by the end of it. He's surprised at how everyone takes the news. Beyond Lip's initial anger everyone simply hugs, tells him that they will always love him and all they want is for him to be happy.

Ian speeds through the streets to Mandy's house, running out of his car and banging on her door until she answers. She's rightfully shocked to see Ian. She explains that Mickey had come by earlier, saying goodbye to her again and that he had left soon after.

It doesn't take a genius to know he drove back to Brooklyn.

Ian had been worried before that, concerned that he had done something to push Mickey away, but at Mandy's revelation his worry quickly fades to anger.  
  
So when he finally arrives at Mickey's apartment, he is pissed off.

"What the fuck," Mickey grumbles, rubbing his head, rolling onto his back and blinking rapidly, "Ian?"

"Fuck you!" Ian shouts and grabs a shirt from the floor, whipping it at Mickey. "You left me?!"

Mickey furrows his brow, "you followed me?"

"Of course I fucking followed you, what else was I going to do?!" Ian's voice is low and dangerous, his rage bubbling over and he shakes his head. "You left me!"

Mickey sits up, pulling his knees up and breathing in, "you were with your family. That's what you wanted right? To be with your family?"

"Fuck you."

Mickey glares up at him and clenches his jaw, "you were dancing around with your fucking family, with you're stupid grin and looking so goddamn happy. You wanted to be with them - you were with them." He runs his tongue over his teeth and scowls, "you bitched so much about them, and how much you missed them. Fuck Ian, if you love them so much, why'd you fucking leave?"

"Because I love you too, you fucking asshole." Ian responds coldly, whipping another piece of discarded clothing at Mickey.

Mickey's sour expression drops and he doesn't even bother to dodging as the dirty shirt hits his face. "You what?"

Ian's eyes widen as he realizes what he said, his mouth drops open. "I..." His throat is dry; he didn't mean to say that. Honestly, he didn't intend to ever say that to Mickey considering how short their time together is.

"What did you just say?" Mickey presses, sitting up straighter and leaning forward.

Ian breathes in deeply, he figures the words are already out there anyways. "I love you."

Silence falls between them; Ian watches Mickey nervously as Mickey stares at him with a neutral expression Ian doesn't know what to think of. Ian really wishes he knew what Mickey is thinking, wishes that Mickey would just say something to make Ian feel a little less on display.

"Did you hear me?" Ian questions, breaking the silence with his shaky voice.

Mickey nods and bites his lower lip. He stands and walks over to Ian swiftly, wrapping a hand behind his neck and pulling him into a long, soft kiss. Ian is quick to wrap his arms around Mickey, walking him backwards until they collapse on the bed still tangled together. Ian's hands travel down Mickey's side, feeling his hot flesh under his hands and sighing happily into Mickey's mouth.

Mickey pulls back suddenly, watching Ian and breathing deeply.

"What's wrong?" Ian asks, gripping at Mickey's hip and trying to regain normal thought.

"Just give me a second," Mickey answers sharply, his eyes wide and expression soft in a way Ian loves so much.

"Are you okay?"

Mickey reaches up, putting a hand over Ian's mouth. "Shut up. I love you."

 

-

 

Mickey's eyes are glued to Ian.

They're lying in Mickey's bed, both on their side, facing each other with their fingers twined and legs tangled together in the cheap sheets. They spent the entire day laying in bed together, whispering their love for each other with each kiss and touch. Neither of them willing to leave the other for a second- constantly wrapped up together, and touching somehow.

"I think I could've spent fifty years with you," Ian murmurs into the silence.

Mickey smirks, "only fifty? The world's ending and you're gonna give me fifty years."

"The way you smoke you'd be dying in fifty years anyways." Ian laughs as he speaks, grinning widely and poking Mickey with his free hand.

Mickey rolls his eyes, but Ian's grin is too contagious not to return. "The world is ending fucker, you're supposed to say you could have loved me forever or some other eternal bullshit."

Ian shakes head, "you'd just tell me its bullshit."

Mickey laughs and licks his lips. "What did I do to get stuck dying next to your annoying ass?"

"Maybe you're my soul mate," Ian answers, his lips twitching as he tries to resist the urge to laugh.

"Fucking eternal bullshit."

They can hear it before anything else, the silent abandoned city getting louder as it approaches. Mickey swallows, his smiling fading and he grips Ian's hand a little tighter. He glances to the window, he can't see anything yet but he knows its coming.

Ian reaches his free hand forward, placing it on Mickey's cheek and drawing Mickey's eyes back to him. "Look at me," Ian says soothingly and smiles, "it's just me and you."

Mickey nods and tries to ignore the noises, tries to ignore the crashing, let's all the noise fade away until all he can hear is Ian's breathing calming him like a favorite song. He stares into Ian's eyes, sparkling and green, and hears himself speaking.

"I could have, you know," his voice is barely above a whisper, "eternity and all that bullshit."

Ian leans forward and presses their foreheads together, "me too, eternity and all that bullshit."

Ian breathes in, and then it all turns white.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr :)](http://meganwwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
